


Post season 4 short piece

by EmmaShalForever (thokin)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Brief mention of Killian and Robin, F/F, but only to point out how wrong they are for the ladies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 10:05:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4915306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thokin/pseuds/EmmaShalForever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a random, possibly fragmented, little piece that came to me during the night.<br/>It's post season 4 finale, but I don't think it fits with 5x01 from what I've read about it (it actually might, but you'll have to decide for yourself)</p><p>It's basically the Swan Mills family trying to adjust to Emma as the Dark One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post season 4 short piece

Emma comes to her the night after. When Regina goes to brush her teeth her room is empty, but when she returns Emma is on the chaise looking as dramatic as ever.

“Don’t you think that look is a tad overkill?” Regina asks in lieu of a greeting, letting her eyes roam over the other woman and frowning when she sees the crystal glass in her hand. “Is that my cider?”

“You didn’t have anything stronger,” Emma tells her, almost a snarl, as she brings it to her red lips and takes a deliberately long drink of the liquid.

Regina doesn’t bother pointing out she could have just conjured herself something else. ”Is the wild getup really necessary?” she asks instead, looking the blonde – her hair is white now, but that’s semantics – over once more before adding, “It wouldn’t hurt to soften your look a bit. You’ll scare Henry.” Emma actually rolls her eyes at her and strikes a bored face. “If Rumple could manage to look more man than imp here, I don’t see why you can’t as well.” Emma raises a brow at the blatant challenge before sipping almost absentmindedly at her drink again.

“Rumple had decades to get control of the Dark One. And besides,” she stands abruptly and Regina has to fight the urge to take a step back. “I look good in leather.”

Regina silently agrees as her eyes trail over the woman again and then she heaves a sigh, like it’s painful for her to admit so. “Fine. Keep the leather, but lose the rest.”

She wonders how the Dark One will handle being commanded, wonders why she demands it in the first place. Emma just chuckles as if she finds this whole confrontation amusing and waves her hands dramatically around herself. Dark smoke billows up around her, but when it clears, her blonde hair is back and there’s color in her face. Regina decides it’s actually worse. Because now it looks like _her_ Emma, only wrong somehow. It’s probably all the leather and her angry, angry eyes. But she can’t very well take it back and say she’s changed her mind.

“That’s better,” she tells Emma and her voice only wavers a little. “It’s late. Why don’t you take the guestroom and join Henry and me for breakfast tomorrow?” Is it really the best idea to expose Henry to Emma like this when they don’t know how far gone she is; how much of the Dark One is in control? Yes, she decides quickly as she watches the blonde empty her glass. Emma would never hurt their son. That’s about the only thing she’s sure about right now.

“Not offering to share your bed? Where’s your sense of hospitality?” Emma asks with a suggestive purr, mirth shining in her eyes, and that’s certainly new. Regina thinks that for once it’s a good thing that she’s been forced to learn to hide her reactions.

“That would be highly inappropriate, Miss Swan,” she scolds, bristling at the smirk Emma gives her. But before she can add anything else smoke surround the blonde and she’s gone, leaving Regina to wonder what the hell that was all about.

After a moment she shrugs to herself and goes over to her bed, pushing the duvet down. She doesn’t bother checking where Emma has gone off to. If she wants to stay, she’ll stay. Regina doesn’t care either way. _Liar_ , her mind whispers, sounding an awful lot like Emma and she pushes it away deliberately. She does allow herself to admit that she hopes the blonde shows up for breakfast, but only because of Henry.

“This should be interesting,” she mutters to herself as she climbs in and settles down. She wonders how good of an idea it is to integrate or rehabilitate the Dark One, or what the hell she managed to start tonight.

Sleep does not come easy when she closes her eyes, mind whirring with questions and possibilities that she has no answers to.

#

Emma pops up as she’s setting the pancakes on the table – she made double in case the blonde decided to show up, but didn’t set a plate in case she didn’t, not wishing to disappoint their son – and Regina startles despite herself, muscles tensing automatically until her brain can tell her it’s only Emma. The leather is as present as ever, but otherwise she’s kept the softer look Regina suggested the night before. Regina tries to cover her surprise by smoothly getting out an extra plate.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show,” she offers, going for haughty and maybe sounding more like there’s something stuck in her throat. Emma smirks again – what the hell does that damn smirk mean? – before pushing her chair back with magic and draping herself across it just as they hear Henry’s footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“Morning Mom. Ma,” he says casually, like he’s not at all surprised to see Emma there, plopping down in his chair and grabbing eagerly for the pancakes. Regina notices the dark look that passes over Emma’s face a moment before their son yelps and quickly draws back his hand.

“It’s bad manners to start before everyone is seated, especially your mother who puts so much effort into you not having to lift a finger.” Henry and Regina both eye Emma in disbelief and stunned silence.

“Since when have you cared about manners or waiting when there’s food involved?” Henry asks her eventually, beating Regina to it, and they share a brief look of agreement.

“Maybe I just want you to appreciate all that your mother does for you. We didn’t all grow up as cush as this.” It’s obvious that Emma tries for jovial, casual, like she normally would, but Regina picks up on the dark undertone, the silent warning. She hopes Henry doesn’t.

“It’s fine,” she tells them both, taking her seat and finding Henry’s hand on the table, squeezing gently once before letting go with a smile that she hopes tells him everything will be okay. “Let’s eat before it goes cold.”

#

“Emma’s so weird now. So prickly. Like-” Henry stops himself and shoots Regina a guilty look that has her lips quirking despite herself.

“What like me?” She teases, watching with amusement as he eyes his shoes for a moment before looking up at her sheepishly.

He’s going to be taller than her soon if he keeps growing like this. And although what they have now is beyond what she could have imagined, part of her misses how little he used to be; how much he needed her. She fears that soon he won’t need her at all. Her little Prince is growing up so fast.

“So Emma’s become a stickler for rules and propriety as the Dark One; it could have been worse.” _Like murder_ , she thinks as she lays her hand against his cheek and reminisces of a time when it was fuller; chubbier.

They’ve been doing lots of dinners and breakfasts together, trying to incorporate this new Emma into their lives and challenge her to be in control of herself. _Operation Swan_. Some nights Emma stays, sipping cider with Regina and whispering about the dark urges she’s trying to fight; how she doesn’t always succeed.

She’d decked Hook when he tried True Love’s kiss – and Regina won’t deny she found immense pleasure in that – before announcing in front of everyone that she could never love a liar or someone to whom she was just a possession. Regina had been hard pressed to not ask for a deeper clarification on that one.

But it’s not like her own relationship is faring much better.

There’d been one night when Emma had struggled more than usual with her new vicious streak that they’d gotten into an argument. Apparently Emma was sick of seeing her selling herself short and refusing to find happiness. There’d been some uncomfortable truths about double standards. How Regina had claimed wanting to beat fate and believed in making her own destiny, but then gave in as soon as she was told Robin was supposed to be her happy ending. How Robin hadn’t even believed her when they came to rescue him and always seemed to choose someone else over Regina.

She’d been furious and hurt, and for a moment had lost control of herself and hurtled a fireball at the blonde. Emma blocked it with a casual flick of her wrist, like she’d been expecting it, and offered that damn smirk again. Regina had sent her away in her anger and confusion and they hadn’t seen Emma for a week. Although they did hear about all the vandalism and threats she made around town.

“I think she’s doing well, all things considered,” Regina tells Henry with a reassuring smile, forcing herself out of her own thoughts to focus fully on her concerned son.

“I know, but shouldn’t we have found a way to get rid of the Dark One by now?”

“Maybe,” she starts, and this is a conversation she’s thought a lot about lately. “Maybe there isn’t a way to get rid of it. Maybe we need to accept that this is who Emma is now, that it’s a part of her.”

“But what if she hurts someone? _Really_ hurts them?” he lashes out in frustration and Regina’s heart hurts for her son, looking so very young and lost in that moment.

“You have the heart of the truest believer, Henry,” She tells him firmly, laying her hand against his chest as if to feel for the steady beat. “As long as we believe in her and stand by her, Emma will be fine. We might need to adjust a little, but it’s the least we can do for your other mother, don’t you think?”

His answer is to hug her tight.

#

“I can’t believe you actually broke it off with Robin,” Emma offers Regina as greeting when she pops up in her study.

“You had some fair points,” Regina concedes, sipping thoughtfully at her glass of red wine and silently imploring the blonde to get her own drink with a raised brow and a pointed look. She doesn’t feel in a very talkative mood tonight.

“You deserve better. Someone who puts you first.” Emma pours herself a glass and settles across from her. “Someone who knows and accepts both the past you and the new you.”

“I’m not sure anyone like that exists,” Regina tells the blonde annoyed. She’s really not in the mood to have any kind of conversation about how much of a failure her personal life always seems to end in. She thinks it might be time to give up on the notion of romance altogether. Henry has always been enough and he always will be.

“Someone does, you just don’t want to see it.” Regina shoots Emma a warning look that goes unheeded. “There is someone who’s always been in your corner, who’s always had faith in you.” Emma grins, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, almost always.”

Regina is intrigued about where the blonde is going, how far she’s willing to take this, if nothing else. She raises a challenging brow and that annoying smirk is back on Emma’s lips.

“Last I checked, you were busy being a dirty pirate’s trophy.” Emma’s eyes turn dark and angry at her goading words.

“Only because I didn’t know any better,” the blonde spits harshly, hand balling into a tight fist where it leans against the arm of the chair. “But now I do. I’m done playing anyone’s puppy. I’m no one’s prize.”

Regina releases a half impressed, half disbelieving scoff. “Good for you,” she tells her, tone mocking, as she raises her glass in a silent toast and tips her head back. When she straightens, Emma is standing in front of her, knees just shy of touching and a hungry look in her eyes that makes Regina’s heart skip a beat. She’s not sure if it’s from fear or exhilaration.

“You want to know the interesting thing I’ve learned about being the Dark One?” Emma asks her, eerily calm as she stares down on her.

“Humor me,” Regina says, knowing it was really a rhetorical question and resisting the urge to stand as well, not comfortable being looked down upon and having her movements restricted. Emma seems to read her discomfort because she takes a small step back to allow her some space.

“The Dark One needs a host. So to keep that host, when we merge, its purpose and desire becomes what the person wants the most. The only difference is that the need to achieve that want is heightened and the lines we’ve drawn that we refuse to cross are erased.” She offers Regina a crooked smile. “Or they grow blurry at least.”

“So basically you don’t feel bad for hurting someone if the end result is your own happiness.”

The blonde nods her head and Regina’s brow quirks. “And what is your happiness then, Emma?” she purrs and her voice may have come out a little more seductive than she intended. Emma grins wide, almost predatory, and before Regina can blink she’s sliding onto her lap, one leg on each side of her seat and her tight leather pants creaking.

And for some reason Regina has the sudden urge to laugh as hands tangle in her hair and tugs just shy of gentle, tipping her head back so she can look up into stormy eyes.

“I want family. I want _home_ ,” Emma tells her lowly, almost a growl, and it makes Regina shiver for at least four different reasons that she can’t be bothered to think about.

“Why don’t you take it, then?” she goads instead, meeting Emma’s smirk with one of her own and parting her lips willingly – but never eagerly, she’ll deny that for eternity – as Emma leans down to claim them almost desperately.

And maybe, Regina thinks as she divests Emma of her top and curses her idiocy for wearing all that tight leather, she can find happiness beyond her son after all.


End file.
